Greg O'Sanders aka Kiss Me I'm Scandanavian
by A.G. Hart
Summary: Pure Fluff. Short Sandle One Shot. Who knew St. Patrick's Day could be romantic? Please R&R!


Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or any of its Characters. Wish I did, I'd have a better job…

Author's note: Original song is, well, original to me…I wrote it.

Greg Sanders sat in the Las Vegas Crime Lab break room, wringing his hands. He knew tonight was the night; he had to ask her. If he chickened out this time, there wouldn't be a next time. He was going to ask fellow CSI Sara Sidle for drinks.

He knew it was a good day for drinks, too; it was St. Patrick's Day. He'd chickened out at Christmas. He was sick at New Year's. And Valentine's Day seemed too hokey to ask her out for drinks. But, St. Patrick's Day was perfect. Now if only she'd say yes.

Greg took another sip of his coffee, hoping she'd walk in any moment. It was about time for her coffee break too. He only had a couple more minutes before he had to get back to work. And just then, Sara walked in.

"Hey, Sara," Greg greeted her.

Sara looked over at Greg a little surprised. She was preoccupied and hadn't noticed him. "Hey Greg," she returned his greeting, and then walked over to the coffee pot. After getting herself a cup, she sat at the same table as Greg.

"What's up?" he asked, trying to start a conversation.

She waved her hand in dismissal. "You don't want to know," replied.

"That bad, huh?"

She nodded. "Yeah, been a rough shift."

He knew this was his chance. "You want to get a green beer after shift? I mean, it's St. Patrick's Day after all."

Sara thought for a minute, taking a sip of her coffee. This shift had been especially awful and a beer didn't sound too bad. Plus, Greg was usually good for a laugh or two. "Sure," she finally responded.

'It's ok if you do—" Greg had prepared his defeat speech and so was a little surprised when she actually said yes. "Ok, cool. Want to just meet at O'Leary's?"

"Ok," Sara responded.

Greg nodded, feeling light of heart. He was excited she said yes, but also nervous. He only hoped she'd like the surprise he had in store for her. "Ok, see you later."

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Sara walked into the crowded bar, looking around for Greg. She decided to get a beer while she looked and so walked over to the bar.

After she ordered her drink, the bartender asked, "Are you Sara?"

Sara raised an eyebrow. She didn't recognize the bartender and didn't know how she'd know him. "Um, yeah," she smiled uncomfortably.

"Greg said he'd be a little late. He got tied up in something," the bartender told her.

"You know Greg?" she questioned, surprised that this was the type of place Greg would frequent. She figured him for more of a club guy, not a pub guy.

The bartender nodded. "He's cool. And he saved you guys a table. If you go towards the stage, there's a table with a sign on it. It's for you."

_A table,_ she thought. _Fancy._ _I didn't know this was a date._ "Ok," she replied to the bartender and started to walk in the direction he had pointed.

Greg still hadn't arrived by the time she had finished her first beer and drinking alone was not what she wanted tonight. She seriously thought about leaving, but decided to have one more before she went. To her surprise, when her second beer came, the waitress also handed Sara a single white rose with green dye in the veins and along the edges.

"Who's this from?" Sara inquired.

The waitress pointed to the stage behind Sara. Sara turned to look just as Greg was walking out with a guitar in hand. She didn't even know he played.

As Sara would later find out, Greg knew the owner of O'Leary's rather well. They belonged to the same gym. The owner had always offered Greg a stage to play on whenever he wanted. And that night, Greg took him up on his offer.

"Well, I know you guys are all here for St. Patrick's Day," Greg greeted the crowd as he got towards the center of the stage. "But, I've got five minutes and a song and then we'll get to the Celtic band."

Greg strummed his guitar a couple of times to make sure it was in tune. "Ok, so, here goes," he stated. He started to play a mid-tempo melody that was pretty catchy. But it was when he started to sing that Sara was truly impressed.

His voice was a little scratchy, but deep and rich as he sang, "Somebody pinch me, because I don't want this to be a dream. I want to know that you're really here with me. So I'll drink another green beer and try to drown all my fear just to tell you/Oh you're beautiful, beautiful to me. Your laugh, your smile, your frown, your tears/Oh you're beautiful, beautiful to me/I know we're just friends, but I don't want that to be the end/I want to feel you in my arms, your lips next to mine/oh you're beautiful, beautiful to me. Your laugh, your smile, your frown, your tears/Oh you're beautiful, beautiful to me/And I know you're in love with some other guy/But I'm asking you to give me a try/Please give me a chance, it could be the sweetest romance/Oh you're beautiful, beautiful to me. Your laugh, your smile, your frown, your tears/Oh you're beautiful, beautiful to me/won't you let me show you, how beautiful, beautiful you are."

By the time he finished, a tear was running down Sara's cheek. She wasn't sure if it was him, with his melodic voice and poetic words, or just that it had been a rough day and the song was for her. But she knew she'd never look at Greg the same way. The song opened her eyes and gave her a look into Greg's soul. And it was a wonderful place. _Maybe a chance is in order,_ she thought.

Greg left the stage to the crowd clapping. He had been received well despite a few wrong notes. He only hoped Sara had liked it.

He put away his guitar and walked to the table, but was disappointed. The only thing left at the table was the flower. Greg slumped in the chair. He took the leap, only to fall flat on his face.

He looked up at the sound of a glass hitting the table. It was Sara, bringing him a beer. He immediately stood up. "Sara, I thought you'd left," he said.

Her smile was wide. "Just thought you'd need something to drink after singing," she replied.

"You liked it?" he hesitantly asked.

She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He'd gotten his answer; she loved it. When they separated, a big grin spread across his face, like a child who just opened their favorite present at Christmas.

"Remarkable," she said.

"The kiss or the song?" he half-jokingly asked.

"Both," she replied and then kissed him again, unsure of where it might end. But for the first time, she didn't really care. She just wanted to live in this moment here and now and it was good. She knew she'd never think of St. Patrick's Day the same way again. Who knew it could be romantic?


End file.
